by JoAnn Ross
“Mr. Douchett will add the battery before the performance,” Kelli assured the five-year-old.
“Good,” Allison Duggan said. “Because the song won’t work if Rudolph’s nose doesn’t flash.”
There were times when Kelli thought that she might as well give Allison the role of codirector. The tiny blonde might look like the Christmas angel she was dressed up to portray, but the little girl was a demon when it came to getting the details right.
“It’ll flash,” Kelli said.
Yesterday, Allison’s major concern had been whether or not there were enough rhinestones and sequins on her angel costume to sparkle properly beneath the spotlights.
ABC December was a simple and enjoyable play: Each of the children would do a little dance to the center of the stage, hold up a sign with a letter of the alphabet, sing two lines to fit their assigned letter, then dance off again.
It wasn’t nearly as complex as the Winter Snow Fairy play the fourth graders planned to do. Or the annual sixth grade shortened version of The Nutcracker, which, years after Kelli had performed it, remained an audience pleaser.
Although she was trying to keep her mind focused, Kelli’s concentration was that of a mosquito. Or at least a five-year-old.
“You seem distracted today,” Adèle noted after the small performers had all gone home and the three women were packing up the costumes and alphabet posters.
“This time of year is always a bit stressful,” she hedged, unwilling to admit to this woman she cared about so dearly that it was the older woman’s grandson who was causing Kelli’s mind to wander.
“You’ve always loved it so,” the seventysomething woman said, studying Kelli with concern. “I still remember how you seemed to float above the stage when you danced The Nutcracker. You actually became a sugarplum fairy.”
“I was eleven,” Kelli pointed out. “Life was less complicated then.”
“I suppose. Yet you’ve always embraced the holidays.” Adèle’s brow furrowed. “Actually, it’s been only the past few days that you haven’t seemed yourself.”
Kelli shrugged. “I guess the weather’s getting to me.”
“It’s winter,” Zelda, who was replacing pink ribbons in a pair of tiny ballet slippers with white, pointed out. “It always rains on the coast in December.”
Actually, it rained on the coast year-round, which had never bothered Kelli. In fact, she actually enjoyed the cool, misty days of “Oregon sunshine.”
“Maybe I just need to get away for a few days. I wonder if it’s too late to get plane tickets to Hawaii.”
“With Bradford?” Zelda asked.
“No. Alone.” She and Brad Archer had been dating for the past two months, but they were not anywhere near the stage in their relationship when she’d want to take a long flight and a beach trip with him.
“Alone?” Adèle looked at her as if she’d suggested taking a flight to Mars. “At Christmas? What about your parents?”
“It’s not as if I’d be abandoning them.” Merely escaping old memories she’d discovered she wasn’t ready to relive.
“Cole’s back home.” Adèle pressed her case. “Have you seen him yet?”
“No. We haven’t run into each other.” And hadn’t she done her best to make sure of that?
Over the past year, Kelli had tried to convince herself that she’d gotten over Cole Douchett. It wasn’t as if they’d ever actually had a romantic relationship. He’d always treated her like a little sister, even when she knew, in her heart of hearts, that if he’d only wait for her to grow up, they could be so much more.
Kelli couldn’t remember when she’d fallen in love with Cole. It seemed as if he’d always been hers. Living across the street, it was only natural that her older brothers would hang out with the three Douchett boys.
There were times when it was almost as if she had six big brothers.
But Cole had been different. He’d been the one who took her out for ice cream when Hershey, their chocolate Lab, had gotten run over and she couldn’t stop crying. When she was seven years old, during a halcyon weekend when her family stayed with his at the Douchett cabin on Rainbow Lake, Cole had taught her to bait a hook.
Although she’d have rather eaten dirt than touch a wiggly worm, years later, Kelli could remember his large hands covering hers as he’d helped her pull in that gleaming rainbow trout. That night, while sparks flew upward into an uncharacteristically clear night sky, he’d taught her how to cook the fish—which he’d cleaned for her—over a campfire.
Although she’d tasted fancier preparations of trout in the intervening years, that simple fish remained the best she’d ever eaten.
“Bernard and I are just rattling around in our big old house,” Adèle said. “I believe I’ll throw a holiday fais do do.” Which, although it translated to “make sleep,” Kelli knew was Cajun for party. Nobody in Shelter Bay threw parties like the Douchetts. “It’ll be fun to do for Boxing Day. You will come, won’t you?”
“If I’m in town, of course.” And if she didn’t come down with a case of the flu, which she could almost feel coming on.
Adèle started to open her mouth. Then closed it with a nearly audible snap. “Well, Cole’s got another twelve days before he has to return to Camp Pendleton. There’s plenty of time for us all to get together.”
Too much time to keep coming up with excuses to avoid the man, Kelli thought with a sinking heart.
Hawaii was looking better and better.
3
The first thought that rocketed through Cole’s mind when he saw Kelli arriving at the pier for the boat parade the next afternoon was that the little girl with the flyaway, dandelion hair, freckles, and braces had definitely grown up.
Her face, framed by the hood of her parka, reminded him of the ivory cameo his grandmother had inherited from her mother. Her eyes were wide and colored the gleaming blue of sunlight on summer water, her cheeks pink from the cold, and how could he have known her all her life and have not realized how kissable those full lips were?
She was with Matt, the eldest and most boisterous of her three brothers, plus his wife and kids, and some blond guy Cole didn’t recognize.
“Hey, Cole!” Matt caught him in a one-armed guy hug. “Good to see you back, man. So, are you staying for good this time?”
“That’s what I’m trying to decide,” Cole said.
“Well, if you do decide to hang around, I’m selling cars at Gardner Ford and just happen to have a red Mustang GT on the lot that’s got your name on it.”
Since he already had a red dually diesel pickup he used for hauling around the jet boat he kept docked at Del Mar’s Camp Pendleton Marina, Cole needed a muscle car like he needed an extra head. But at least his old friend had gotten the color right.
He laughed. “It’s good to know some things never change.”
Despite what his father and grandfather had said about his ability to get along with people, Cole’s people skills didn’t come anywhere near this man’s.
From their early days in Cub Scouts, when Matt Carpenter would win the top prize for Scoutarama ticket sales, he was always selling something: subscriptions to the Shelter Bay Beacon; crabs he’d buy at a discount from Cole’s grandfather in the summer, then boil so fainthearted customers wouldn’t be forced to commit crustacean homicide; hot cider and clam chowder every fall; Texas fruit cakes for the ski club trip fund-raiser; and Christmas trees from the Carpenter family’s farm in the parking lot of Harbor Hardware.
The proceeds from all those years of salesmanship had paid for a degree in business from Oregon State University, and Cole had no doubts that someday his old friend could well end up owning the dealership.
He turned to Matt’s wife, Meredith, who was holding a red-haired toddler by his mittened hand. A little girl he knew to be four years older had just caught the toddl
er’s twin, who’d taken off running on the toes of his snow boots toward a trio of pugs an elderly couple were walking on leashes.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted Meredith Carpenter. “How the hell can you be the mother of three when you look exactly the same as you did when you were sweet sixteen?” He tilted his head. Studied her. “I take that back. You look even better,” he decided.
“You sweet-talking man,” she said, fluttering her lashes as she scooped up the boy his sister had just managed to return to the group. “You should pay attention to the way Cole treats a woman,” she told her husband. “Or I just might run away with him.”
“Mama!” The little girl’s eyes widened to blue saucers, and she tugged on the hem of her mother’s jacket.
“Just kidding, darling,” Meredith said. “You know I love your daddy to pieces.” She secured the squirming boy more firmly to her hip and patted the top of her daughter’s tasseled purple ski cap with her free hand. “You remember Mr. Douchett, don’t you, Melanie?”
“You helped me build a sandcastle when I was little,” the child—who was, as his grandfather would say, cute as a ladybug in a rug—said. “And you dug a moat.”
“Gotta protect the home front from invaders,” Cole said with a grin. “How you doing, sweetheart?”
“Fine, thank you,” she said in a polite, ladylike voice far older than her years.
“I’m glad to hear that. You’ve grown up a lot since that beach day.”
Another firstborn, he thought on an inward sigh. Already on the straight-and-narrow path of responsible behavior. Part of him admired her for being so conscientious at such a young age. A stronger part wanted to urge her to learn how to loosen up and play while she could.
Finally, because he couldn’t ignore her any longer, Cole looked over at Kelli, who, in her pink hooded parka, matching ski pants, and white moon boots reminded him of a sugarplum. “Hey, Kels.”
“Hello, Cole.” Inwardly conflicted about his feelings toward this woman, he’d managed to keep his tone outwardly casual. Hers, while not exactly unfriendly, was as cool as a winter sea. Though an improvement over her inexplicable and uncharacteristic flare of temper last Christmas, it still wasn’t all that encouraging. Maybe the guy she was with was the jealous type and she was just trying to avoid another scene. “You’re looking well.”
“I’m doin’ okay,” he said. Which was mostly true. “You’re looking terrific.” He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the sugarplum idea, so he kept it to himself.
“Thank you.”
He hadn’t exactly expected her to fling herself into his arms—they’d never had that type of relationship—but he also hadn’t expected a deep freeze. After all, they’d known each other forever.
Younger and outnumbered by her three brothers and the three Douchett boys, for years she’d seemed like an adorable little puppy who was always following, wanting to go along. Possessing a determination far stronger than her size, she’d even, on more than one occasion, ignored the “Boys Only” sign and wheedled her way into the tree house Mr. Carpenter had built in their backyard. In fact, he remembered, looking back, it was where he’d found her crying her eyes out after her dog had died.
“Nice weather, for December,” he tried again. When in trouble, always fall back on the weather. Although it was a few minutes to four, the sun was already lowering in the sky for the 4:22 p.m. sunset, and the temperature was dropping by the minute. Fortunately, the rain had stopped a little after noon.
“It’s lucky it cleared up for the parade,” she agreed.
“Yeah.” A silence as thick as morning fog settled over them.
The guy she was with, seeming to sense the uneasy undercurrents, broke it. “I’m Bradford Archer.”
Cole shook the gloved hand held out to him. “Cole Douchett.”
When the guy put his arm around Kelli’s shoulder, Cole could practically see the “Taken” sign flashing over her head. He glanced down at her hand, but the fuzzy white gloves she was wearing kept him from being able to see if she were wearing a ring.
“You’re the Marine,” Archer said.
“One of them,” Cole said, wondering what Kelli had told him about their relationship. “One of my brothers is a Marine, too.”
“Brad’s principal of Pelican Elementary,” Kelli said.
“Which would also make him your boss.” Weren’t there workplace rules against that? Apparently not. “Being an elementary school principal sounds like quite a challenge.”
“Well, it’s not on the level of fighting terrorism,” Archer allowed. “But it’s one I enjoy. Especially since I have the opportunity to work with such great and dedicated teachers.” He smiled down at Kelli, who smiled back up at him.
Cole would personally rather be keelhauled than spend his day wrangling grade school kids, but he figured this Brad guy probably wouldn’t fully appreciate parachuting into a remote location, then freezing your ass for hours on the cold, hard ground, scoping out a hole that led to a tunnel, which in turn led into a cave in the snowy Hindu Kush Mountains, waiting for a Taliban courier to show up.
It was funny to think of Kelli having hooked up with some guy. Not funny ha-ha, because she’d definitely grown up to be a desirable woman. Just funny odd. Being the baby sister of his best friend had kept him from thinking of her romantically or sexually, but in his mind, whenever he’d think about her, she’d stayed frozen in time.
Okay. That was a lie.
There had been that out-of-the-blue bolt of awareness of her as a very desirable woman last winter, which he’d managed to convince himself had been merely an aberration born from having been deployed too long.
Or so Cole had told himself. Over the past year in the mountains, he’d had plenty of time to second-guess a lot of decisions he’d made the last time he’d been home.
Another silence settled over them. Heavier, deeper, longer than the first.
“Heard the Douchett boat’s going to be in the parade,” Matt jumped in, turning the dial up on his natural enthusiasm, as if sensing something wasn’t exactly copacetic.
“We spent yesterday putting lights all over it,” Cole agreed, grateful for the conversational intervention. “And I hear this year’s town tree came from your family’s farm. Again.” The red, white, and green lights draped onto the limbs of the towering Douglas fir tree in the park at the top of the hill were visible from all over Shelter Bay.
“Wouldn’t be a Shelter Bay Christmas without a Carpenter Farms tree,” Matt said. Just because he’d never enjoyed working on the farm didn’t mean he wasn’t proud of the family business. “Brian went into partnership with Dad after he got back from Iraq. I know he’d really like to get together while you’re here, but this is his busy season. The farm’s now one of the top five shippers in Oregon.”
Which was saying something, given that the state just happened to be the top producer of Christmas trees in the nation.
“That’s great.”
“Yeah. Brian talked Dad into going after Costco, which made a difference in profits. The big box stores may be really tight with their dollars, but they move a lot of merchandise. The old days of making a living selling from the local hardware store parking lot are long gone.”
“Things change,” Cole said. He might be talking to Matt, but he was looking at his old friend’s sister, something that did not go unnoticed by Brad Archer.
“Well, we’d better get going if we want good seats in the viewing stand,” Archer told Kelli.
For a fleeting moment, as her eyes met his and held, Cole thought he viewed a flash of the old Kelli, who hadn’t even tried to hide her schoolgirl crush on him. But it came and went so quickly, he couldn’t quite read it.
She’d not only grown up. She’d gotten a lot better at hiding her thoughts.
For some reason, one he’d think about later, despite having w
anted to avoid her, Cole wasn’t quite ready to let her go yet. “I hear you’re working with grandmère on this year’s play.”
That earned a quick, uncensored smile that lit up her eyes. “She’s been an amazing help. I swear she’d got as much energy as the kids.” She arched a brow. “Are you attending?”
“Apparently it’s a big deal for the family.” Cole shrugged. “So, I figured I’d show up. She also mentioned a party the day after Christmas.”
Which, until this minute, had been making him look forward to escaping to the cabin. One thing he wasn’t up to was chatting with the crowd that would show up for a Douchett party, which always boasted the best food in town. Especially since he’d discovered that civilians all seemed to either talk about the war with him, or look at him as if they feared he was about to go all PTSD on them.
Now, though, he couldn’t help wondering if Kelli was going to be there. And if she was, if she’d come with the territorial principal in tow.
“She invited me,” Kelli answered. “But, unfortunately, I had to turn her down. Because I’m going to be in Hawaii.”
When Archer opened his mouth, about to say something, she grabbed his arm and began leading him away. “Well, it’s been nice to see you again, Cole,” she said on a chirpy tone that even he could tell was as phony as the pollack some fish processors would flavor with a bunch of chemicals and pass off as crab. “Have a wonderful Christmas. And stay safe.”
“Great seeing you again, too,” he said. “Have a great Christmas.”
As he watched her walk away arm in arm with Archer, their heads almost touching, Cole felt a sudden flare of heat. But having become intimately acquainted with dangers of all kinds, he banked that attraction just as quickly.
4
“Since when are you going to Hawaii?” Brad asked as Kelli practically dragged him toward the bleachers that had been set up as a viewing stand.
“I haven’t booked any reservations,” she said. “But after remembering how much the weeks of intense preparations for the holiday programs take out of me every year, I’m considering it.”
